Foreigners
by KivaEmber
Summary: AU HP/DN XOVER ONESHOT. A search for a toilet in London kind of went…awry. LxRaitoxL.


**Title: **Foreigners

**Pairing: **LxRaitoxL

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or Death Note. But as an authoress I'm allowed to steal the characters and use them for my perverted means! Bwahahahahahahahaaa!

**Summary: **AU HP/DN XOVER ONESHOT. A search for a toilet in London kind of went…awry. LxRaitoxL.

**Word Count: **1'195 words

**A/N: **Yes. I went there XD

So, this idea came to me when I was in town, and I desperately needed a toilet. It took me forever. Well, actually fifteen minutes, but they were the longest fifteen minutes of my life. And when in search for a toilet, you see pretty weird things…especially in the public toilet…(shudders) ugh, I'm gonna be scarred forever from _that_ ugly sight.

Anywaaaay, what will be moderately cliché is the Death Note side of things. The Kira case has come to a close with Higuichi's imprisonment because L was too paranoid to allow Raito to touch the Death Note and wouldn't let him near it. Raito therefore does not remember being Kira, but knows about the whole Death Note debacle. So, after that whole fiasco, L spirited away the disgruntled teen and declared that he was now his partner in (fighting) crime because he still believed he was Kira and thus, needed to keep an eye on. Raito did throw a fit, but since the sex was good and he was away from Misa's obsessive clutches, he didn't complain that much XD

As you can tell, this already has gaping plot holes. But oh well, enjoy this anyway!

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"_Alan! She super glued my testicle to my thigh and took a picture!"_

_-- Charlie, Two and a Half Men_

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**FOREIGNERS**

"You should've gone to the toilet before you left, Ryuuzaki."

"I'm sorry, Raito-kun." L apologized insincerely, a vague look of discomfort tinting his expression of indifference. "But I did not need to go then."

Raito sighed in exasperation, looking up heavenwards as he squeezed his lover's hand. Looking for a public toilet within the heart of London, the current city where he and L were stationed for a peculiar case of people keeling over dead without any sign as to why, was unusually difficult. Either the café's toilets were occupied, or the small concrete public toilets stashed away beside the bus stations were…not pleasant. "Well if you didn't drink all those take out teas and coke bottles within the past few hours, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"I needed that sugar and caffeine intake, Raito-kun." L argued as they dodged a group of chattering teenage girls, ignoring the excited titters and pointing at their tightly clasped hands. "This case is as tricky as Kira's."

"Which, in your opinion, hasn't been solved yet." Raito grumbled, obviously still sore from the accusations delivered at his person for being the telepathic killer, Kira. Two years hadn't exactly soothed the ex-murderer's slightly hurt feelings. "Oh, hey." He quickly diverted their attention from the sensitive subject. "Let's try that place."

"'The Leaky Cauldron'." L hummed thoughtfully as he was dragged towards the shady looking building, noting how passer bys seemed to ignore its existence, their eyes sliding from the 'Waterstones' bookshop to the record shop on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron.

How odd.

"With a name like that it should have a toilet." Raito scoffed, pushing open the door and stepping in cautiously, wrinkling his nose at the scuffed interior of the building. From what he could see, it was obviously some kind of pub. The lighting was poor, placing the pub and its occupants in a dull darkness that forced the genii to squint to focus properly; there was a thin haze of smoke, possibly from the group of men huddled in the corner with long pipes, and, Raito had to blink to make sure that the smoke and dim lighting wasn't playing tricks on his eyes, wearing what seemed to be old fashioned _robes_.

How odd.

Unconsciously squeezing L's hand again, Raito easily sought out the barman through the smoggy atmosphere and marched towards him, eyeing the bald old man cautiously. "Um, excuse me?" He asked, cursing his slight accent that he couldn't get rid of, no matter how many times he tried. L constantly commented on how cute it was, which made Raito even more determined to try to smooth it out. "Do you have a toilet around here?"

The barman eyed him back just as cautiously, wiping the inside of a glass with a grubby glass. Raito inwardly cringed. "Yeah, we do, sirs." He pointed to the side, where a small corridor beside a staircase wedged in the far side of the room lead towards presumably the toilet. "Down there, the men's room to the left."

Raito smiled tightly. "Sankyu." He winced.

L smirked as Raito suddenly jerked them towards their destination, enjoying the discomfort radiating from the younger male's posture at the small slip. "That was very cute, Raito-kun." He teased as they passed a very bulky man/woman hunched over a table with a mug in one hairy hand.

"Shut up, Ryuuzaki." Raito snapped, turning to the left and pushing open the door. Seeing the singular toilet free for use, he abruptly shoved the still smirking detective in the bathroom with a scowl. "Now empty your bladder so we can leave. I can already feel myself getting lung cancer from all this second hand smoke."

"So rough…" L muttered, still teasing, as he closed the door and proceeded to do his business.

Raito shook his head, reclining gracefully against the wall beside the door and waited, sepia eyes observing the occupants of the dingy pub as well as he could. He pondered over why everyone he could see, the group of smoking men, the bulky…person (he couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman or, more accurately, an _it_), the barman and the heavily cloaked figure nursing what seemed to be a beer bottle, were wearing robes. Was this pub some kind of retreat for the weirdoes who enjoyed dressing up in old fashioned clothes? Or was it some requirement for a club?

Raito shook his head again. He probably didn't want to know.

His observation was cut short when the bathroom door opened after the noise of a flushing toilet, obsidian eyes staring owlishly at the grimacing ex-murderer. "I am done, Raito-kun." L declared.

"Did you wash your hands?" Raito asked shrewdly.

L sighed and re-entered the bathroom with a disgruntled mumble.

Raito wondered, not for the first time in his life, why he became greatly attached to the man who had to be reminded to clean his hands after taking a piss. "Dirty bastard." He growled, coughing lightly and waving a hand before his nose. The smog was starting to irritate his lungs and throat.

"I am not dirty." L argued through the open door, the sound of water running accompanying his protest. "I did not touch my p-"

"Okay! Yeah, I get it, Ryuuzaki." Raito interrupted, flushing heavily at his boyfriend's lack of tact. "But you should still wash your hands afterwards."

L reappeared beside Raito, wide eyes guileless as he snagged the ex-Kira's hand, still slightly damp. "But Raito-kun…" He began innocently as they started down the corridor. "You do not ask me to clean my hands after I have given you a handjob or prepared y-"

Mortified beyond belief (as L was saying this in a very loud voice in the hushed atmosphere of the pub), Raito suddenly smacked his free hand over the other's mouth, looking up at the foggy ceiling of the pub and mouthing 'why?' to the heavens. "For God's sake, Ryuuzaki!" He hissed quietly. "There are things you just don't say in public, and those are one of them!"

L nodded, and Raito sighed, looking away from the eccentric man with a disgruntled grumble. "Let's just go back. Maybe there's some more information that cropped up." He muttered hopefully, wanting to do nothing more then stuff the socially retarded man in a closet away from sight.

L smiled childishly as Raito pushed open the pub's door open and exited from the foggy atmosphere of the pub to the smoggy atmosphere of London. "Will Raito-kun let us ha-"

"No. You can have your cake when we get back."

Just as they had left, one of the smoking men accidentally dropped their glass mug and mumbled an apology. "Sorry about that." He called over to the barman, sliding out a thin, pale wand and flicking his wrist in a sharp movement.

The glass mug repaired itself and the man stooped and picked it up from the floor, sliding the wand back up his sleeve. With his newly repaired glass, the man turned to his fellow smoking companions and jerked his head towards the door.

"Foreign wizards are getting stranger by the year."

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**A/N: **Yeah. Spur of the moment thing. -.-;

Just….uh…well, I hope y'all enjoyed!


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